


Escape from the Hangman's Noose

by Merit



Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merit/pseuds/Merit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephanie was only sad that her arrest record wasn't longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape from the Hangman's Noose

Four hours before noon, Stephanie was led into the courthouse. There she was told to wait on justice by a red faced guard.

“Oh I’ll be waiting for a while, then?” Stephanie had said. 

The red faced guard had sighed and rubbed his stained jerkin. “That’ll be enough from you,” he warned, waving one hairy finger in her face. “It’s early enough as it is, I don’t know saucy words from a minx like you.” He gave her a narrow glare that was ruined when he winced as the light hit his eyes.

“I’ve heard elderberry tea is very good after a night of excess,” Stephanie said.

“You do, do you?” He said, holding up a piece of paper that listed her crimes against Gotham. It wasn’t as long as Stephanie would have liked, but she had only a few short weeks and even she could only accomplish so much. “Well, I’m not surprised. You must have been sleeping all day and drinking all night. You’ve been very naughty!”

“I had fun, though,” Stephanie said. She would have made a rude gesture, but the manacles she was wearing were heavy from thick iron and old spells.

“Probably all the fun, you’ll have,” said the guard, signing her over to a tall guard, with a long coiled whip by his side. It looked well kept and Stephanie resigned herself to biting down on her tongue. Some people never had a sense of humor.

An hour or two later she was finally led into the courtroom.

The judge was old. But Stephanie had never known a young, spritely judge. They were old, white haired crusty and stared disapprovingly at her. Oh at night, at a somewhat shady tavern, lit only by smoky torches, they might stare at her ankles and lick their lips. Under the bright light of the day, however, they would stare at her face like they had never seen her before. 

"Stephanie Brown," he read slowly, because they all waited on his words.

"Yes?" She said, somewhat pertly.

He blinked at her. People weren't supposed to interrupt him. People were supposed to stand quietly in front of him. People were supposed to tap their heads in their respect when they saw him. Stephanie had only curtseyed when a guard a waved a whip a bit too menacingly at her backside. The guard was sighing impatiently, one hand thumbing the handle of his whip, always ready for the opportunity to inflict some pain.

"Stephanie Brown," the judge said more sternly, his voice cold and imperious. "Your crimes are wantonness, adultery, thievery, public drunkenness, lewdness, resisting arrest, making rude gestures... terrible crimes, crimes that go against the high moral nature of our blessed community." He seemed rather pleased with himself at that. "How do you plead?"

What she said here didn't matter. Important people wanted her here, wanted her declared guilty. Stephanie was a daughter of a thief. It was easy to believe that blood followed blood.

It all ended the same. Three days hence, Stephanie would die by the hangman's noose. 

Stephanie knew that. Stephanie also had no intention of dying. So Stephanie grinned widely and oh how the crowd tittered and gasped at her imprudence. Shocking, scandalous!

"Guilty!"

-

They were society matrons, respected and well regarded. They also had the task of undressing Stephanie.

Male prisoners were usually stripped by the prison guards. But even if she was a dastardly criminal, she was still a woman. The society madams had insisted to the judge that they be allowed the duty of making sure she wasn’t smuggling in poisons or weapons. It was decorum thing, they had warned. If men were allowed to undress women, why, there would be moral anarchy! The judge, rapidly blinking, had quickly agreed. 

They stared at Stephanie as if she was less than a speck of dust on their second finest silverware. Stephanie nodded her head at them, as if they were equals.

It probably horrified more than any other impertinent words or actions could have.

"Why! I never!" Said the eldest matron, wearing a massive mauve hat that quivered with her outrage as she brought a gloved hand to her mouth.

"Quite," Stephanie said and did her mildest leer.

"That's enough," a woman with a long nose said. "Undress."

"I have some honor!" Stephanie exclaimed. "Prison clothing for women is dangerously scanty. I wouldn't want to invite an assumption from a prison guard."

"Hmm," the woman said. "I suppose you have already been searched?"

"Before I entered the court room," Stephanie said promptly. "A massive invasion of privacy! By a man with very wandering hands," she added. It wasn’t quite true. The man had been rough, but had seemed disinterested in what was under her dress.

"Oh nothing but what you deserve," said a woman who had specifically volunteered to supervise Stephanie's undressing.

It was standard for prisoners to be stripped of their clothes. All went to the hangman's noose in the same tattered rags as the man before. It got a little tricky when there were more than six, since the budget had year after year ended up buying ale for the guards rather than replacing prisoner garments.

Women were rarely hanged. They were foolish creatures, too silly to realize the extent of their crimes. They were more often shipped out to a rural community, sentenced to hard labor, with little recourse for crimes that might be committed against them there. And so, there were no suitable garments for Stephanie.

"But seven petticoats?" Said the woman with the long nose.

"I get cold easily," Stephanie replied, lowering her eyelashes.

She got to keep them. 

-

They took her to the Blackgate Tower. It was the tallest tower in the whole town and both of the guards were huffing by the time they reached the small room at the top of the tower. Stephanie tapped her foot impatiently and gave them a stern look.

"I don't have all week you know!" She said, grinning at them.

The younger guard, a gangly boy not much older than her gave her a perplexed look. "No. You don't - "

"Shut it boy," the older guard said, who looked like he had a bit of goblin blood in him, as he wiped his forehead. "I won't have no misbehavior from you," he said waving a finger in her face. There was a slight green tint to his nails. Stephanie noted. Goblin blood or incredibly poor hygiene, she couldn’t tell.

"You won't hear a peep," Stephanie said, smiling. Or maybe he was just hideously ugly, Stephanie thought.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. He had been in this business a bit too long. He had seen too many people so sure they could escape death. 

He unlocked the door, making a great show of it. "No one's escaped from here, oh no. They all go to the noose, just where they belong."

"Indeed," Stephanie said, nodding her seriously. "Why I believe the last person here was a boy of fourteen! He stole three loaves of bread. Truly what a loathsome crime," she shook her head.

"Justice will be had!" The lad said.

The old guard and Stephanie exchanged a glance. Without breaking from her gaze, he spat on the ground. If Stephanie wasn't so light on her feet it would have made an unsightly stain on the hem of her dress.

"Of course, boy," the old guard said and the skinny guard's chest grew twice as large, pumped up on pride. "Inside now, girl," the old guard said, gesturing to the cell. "I'm too old to shove you against a wall and have my way with you but perhaps the boy might," he said, leering at her.

The boy guard looked somewhat terrified by the idea.

"If I'm going to die anyway, what's a little murder?" Stephanie said coolly.

"Right," the gangly guard said quickly. "It wouldn't be proper either."

"Sure," Stephanie said. They unlocked her manacles, using a spelled key. They must think escape is hopeless, she thought, rubbing at her raw wrists.

The door clanged behind her. It was at least two inches thick. Kicking it down would be nigh on impossible. Not to mention loud. If she managed to get out that way, she probably would be facing a set of very angry guards, very unhappy that she had interrupted their dice games.

Stephanie walked over to the one window. It was barred. It was also only a foot wide. It would take some wriggling for her to be able to get her hips through that!

And to be honest? Stephanie hadn't expected the Blackgate Tower. It was seldom used. The guards hated to walk up all the stairs and too many people in the past had tried to plead their cases through the small window.

Oh it hadn't aroused the town's sympathies or anything maudlin like that. But a man yelling through his final hours did wake you up at night and the townspeople disapproved of that.

She had expected the damp dungeons. Black Mask had probably been expecting that too.

So they had probably sent her here. She might wake a few townspeople, but the Blackgate Tower was situated in the middle of town. And there was a hanging in three days. All eyes would be on the tower, watching just in case she decided to pre-empt her hanging either by escaping or - heavens forbid - jumping to her death. That would spoil a good hanging day and the town hated that.

Stephanie looked up. Huh. A thatched roof.

She grinned.

Other people would have been afraid if they knew what was going through her head.

-

There were surprising things one could hide in a corset. Stephanie always kept a few coins, a ribbon or two and, of course, a small dagger. It had cost a pretty penny for the corset to be specially made, but Stephanie hadn’t been paying at the time.

She spun the dagger slowly in her hand, staring up at the thatched ceiling with a curious expression.  
Blackgate Tower was used infrequently. There was constant graft amongst the prison guards, their commanders and the mayor in general. The thatch was very thin, washed away by wind and rot. It probably hadn’t been replaced in years.

Stephanie could even see pieces of the blue sky between the strands of hay. She could live with it. She pointed the dagger to the sky, watching a jewel at the base very closely. It didn’t even flicker. Stephanie shook her head. It wasn’t even warded! The fool guards must have spent the money to hire a wizard on ale and dice. Stephanie thanked her favourite gods and goddesses for blessing her with stupid guards. 

She leaned against a cold stone wall and slashed at the air in front of her with her dagger. It whistled and she smiled brightly. She always did like to keep her weapons sharp. It always helped when she was in difficult situations.

She walked over to the one window, a narrow affair hardly suitable for more than shooting arrows. But it did give her a decent view of the sun. She squinted and laughed lightly.

There were still several hours to sunset. Several hours till she could start her grand escape plan. Stephanie sighed.

They never did tell you about how bored you got in prison.

It was a good thing she was only staying for a short time.

-

Stephanie popped her head out.

“Hey,” Tim said. “I’ve been waiting here forever.”

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue at him. “I thought they were sticking me in the deepest, darkest dungeons not the Blackgate Tower!”

Tim shrugged. 

Stephanie narrowed her eyes at him, “How did you get up here?”

“I climbed,” Tim said, standing up and stretching. He was fully illuminated by bright moonlight. Never had Stephanie hated the full moon more in her life. Or idiots like Tim. She reached out and yanked him down by his ankle. He fell with a soft thud.

“I’m trying to escape,” she hissed. “That means I’m trying to be quiet and not be seen.”

“And our lord patron wants you to escape with as much noise and clamor as possible!” Tim dramatically whispered back.

“Ugh,” Stephanie said as she finally wriggled through the hole she made in the thatched roof. “Really?”

“Yep,” Tim said, handing her a staff. “I’ll have your back, don’t worry.”

Stephanie nodded. She quickly tied her petticoat rope to a convenient grappling hook.

“Is that – ” Tim said, blushing so brightly even Stephanie could see it at night.

“Yes,” Stephanie said cheerily and then straightened her shoulders. “Hey Gotham!” She yelled. There were a few muted noises from down below. “Yeah, you!” Several shutters were opened. “I think we should talk!”

Tim gestured to her rope. “Ladies first.” Stephanie sighed before quickly sliding down, extra glad she had invested in silk petticoats.

A couple guards streamed from a garrison, eyes blinking in the darkness. Stephanie easily swung her staff at one, catching him right in the middle, whooping as she did so.

If Batman wanted her to make noise, Stephanie could certainly oblige. 

The smile on her face grew as more guards emerged, rubbing tired faces and awkwardly handling weapons.

Oh this was going to be _fun_.

**Author's Note:**

> For trope_bingo for the space au: fantasy.


End file.
